


Tactile

by annejumps



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-22 19:34:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/917216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annejumps/pseuds/annejumps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eames wasn't sure what to do when he saw Arthur idly caressing one of Eames' pocket squares.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tactile

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [kink_bingo](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) Round 6 for the square _silk/velvet/feathers/furs_. Beta'd by [anatsuno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anatsuno/pseuds/anatsuno).

To Eames' great disappointment, his only dalliance with Arthur to date had been a drunken tumble culminating in hasty mutual handjobs and followed by heavy sleep. 

He was still haunted by the suspicion that he'd snored. In the morning, he’d extricated himself with a few parting words, and taken care of his hangover by himself with some coffee and eggs in the hotel restaurant. He never spoke of it again. Arthur seemed to be wilfully ignoring it as well. So much for his daydreams of tender seduction ending in Arthur giving him everything in a perfectly lit luxury hotel room. Cruelly, he couldn't remember taking off any of Arthur's clothes, nor could he verify whether either of them had been completely naked at any point.

All the same, Eames still couldn't keep his eyes off Arthur. 

During a briefing he found himself mesmerized by Arthur's thumb and forefinger rhythmically rubbing his rolled-up shirtsleeve, fondling no-doubt terribly expensive cotton. Arthur had a tendency to fidget, a mild one but something Eames noticed nonetheless. When he seemed anxious or thoughtful, he'd gently pull at his tie. In between taking notes, he'd rub his fingertips over the fine wool of his trousers at the knees. Eames wondered if Arthur realized how tactile he was; as intelligent as Arthur was, he did seem mildly oblivious to things, from time to time.

Every night on this job, when he was alone in his hotel room, he found himself thinking of those hands, those fine fabrics. He wondered whether Arthur was at all keen on giving things another go. If he were, though, Eames suspected he'd have mentioned it.

Which was why Eames wasn't sure what to do when he saw Arthur idly caressing one of Eames' pocket squares.

Upon reflection, he realized he couldn't remember when he must have lost it. Perhaps he'd left it in Arthur's room. Perhaps Arthur had nicked it. Eames raised a brow. Arthur, taking notes with his other hand, didn't notice him. When the meeting was done, he packed up his things as if nothing were amiss.

(Dreamshare jobs were made of a shocking number of meetings and relatively little exciting dreaming, when you got down to it.)

Now or never, Eames decided, getting up and walking over to him. "Arthur," he began, flashing a bashful smile, "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind getting a drink or two with me."

Arthur's ears turned a bit pink, but he just nodded and said "Sure," casual as you please. His bag in tow, he followed Eames to the hotel bar.

Eames was determined that they stay well under their limit, unlike the last time they’d drunk together. He managed to keep them both talking enough, and eating from an appetizer plate. At first, they talked about the job. But then, Eames casually pressed the side of his foot to the side of Arthur's, under the table, and said, "By the way, Arthur, have you any idea where my pocket square has got to?"

Arthur honest-to-god blushed, and Eames winked at him.

Without a word, Arthur reached into his bag and handed over the square. Eames didn't take it.

"You can keep it, Arthur, I'm only curious what happened to it."

"You left it... after. And... it's soft, so I kept it."

"Well, it's very expensive silk. But that's all?" he pushed. "It isn't to do with any sort of...." Eames waggled his fingers. "Sentimental attachment to me?"

Arthur looked slightly annoyed now, to Eames' secret delight. But he was still blushing. "No. We only slept together once."

"I propose we correct that immediately," Eames said smoothly, taking out his wallet. "Come with me to my room, darling. I'd like to watch you touch things in a notably more private setting."

Arthur was indeed very tactile, and very good with his nimble, long fingers. In fact, Eames was learning that he himself might very well have a fondness for Arthur's hands that was not unlike Arthur's interest in touching fine things. 

This could work out very well indeed for both of them.

The next morning, Eames awoke to find Arthur wanking next to him -- wanking with his cock wrapped in Eames’ pocket square. Noticing Eames was awake, he gave him a grin and a wink. “Morning.”

“Morning. Look at you, brazenly sullying my poor, innocent pocket square.”

“Mm, yes,” Arthur said, voice a bit strained. 

“Do let me help you,” Eames said, wrapping his hand around Arthur’s.

“By all means,” Arthur panted, pressing his hips up when Eames squeezed him.

“Ruining all this expensive silk,” Eames tsked, voice low. “I shall have to exact my revenge.” He nibbled along Arthur’s jawline, down his throat, feeling it work when he swallowed.

“Promises, promises,” Arthur got out. Eames started to retort in kind, but Arthur’s other hand reached for his head to direct him in for a proper kiss, as his wanking hand started to move faster. 

“Yes, Arthur, come on, then,” Eames whispered against his lips. “Arthur, why do you have this pocket square, hm?”

“Because it’s soft -- oh, shit,” Arthur gasped as Eames passed his thumb over the head of his cock. 

“That’s not all, is it, love?” Eames continued. “It’s because you want to think of me, isn’t it? You wanted to touch it and think of me.” 

“Yes, all right?” Arthur panted. 

“No shame in that. I often touch things and think of you,” Eames said, and kissed him again as he stroked him faster. 

As Arthur’s breaths grew more frantic, Eames broke the kiss with a soft sound of parting lips and looked down at his cock. “Darling, you’re soaking it,” he whispered. “If I’d known you liked my fine things this much I’d have given some of them to you ages ago.”

“Shut up,” Arthur slurred, but he was looking down at himself, color high in his cheeks.

“Come on, then, Arthur, come on,” Eames murmured. “Get it wet, love, soak it through.”

Arthur was still looking at his cock, wrapped in silk, Eames’ hand around it and his own hand, the silk clinging, wet and sticky. Eames nuzzled the side of his neck, making him shiver.

“You do it, you do it,” Arthur got out, and Eames didn’t understand for a moment until Arthur moved his hand out from under Eames’. Eames quickly took over.

Arthur was staring down at himself, eyes half-lidded. 

“Come on, then, get your come all over my silk,” Eames whispered, stroking him. 

Arthur shuddered, and came, spurting onto his belly. Eames squeezed him through it, dipped the pocket square in the puddle, stroked his cock loosely again with it. Messy, oversensitized, Arthur gasped as if in protest, but his hips were still rocking and he was still coming, his skin flushed pink. 

As he lay there, panting, Eames mopped him up, then rolled onto his back and started wanking himself off with the pocket square soaked with Arthur’s come. 

“Fuck,” Arthur said from where he’d evidently let his eyes slip closed for a moment, turning to watch. Unexpectedly, he pinched Eames’ nipple, making him gasp, and then leaned in to kiss him. Eames came with Arthur’s tongue in his mouth.

“Well,” he said some time later, with Arthur about to fall asleep on his chest, “won’t be making eye contact with the dry cleaner for that one, will I?”

Arthur snorted a laugh. 

“I ought to make you take it in,” Eames said, with a mock pout. “Serves you right.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Arthur said, amused, dry, shifting to kiss him.

“It’s possible you already have,” Eames replied, as Arthur settled against him once more.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [anatsuno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anatsuno/) and Liz for all your help!


End file.
